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Band Camp 1984
by Jabber (taboop@centurytel.net)
***
Preparing for the coming marching season, our high
school band spent a week of "Band Camp" at a nearby
university. This summer one trumpet player practices
more than just the music. (Please excuse the elongated
"Oohs" and "Aahs" of yesterday's "Little Brother at the
University". Although that was how my 11 year old mind
saw those events.) Similar expressions might follow in
"Band Camp"... This is how my 15 year old mind saw
things at the time. Oh, yeah! It also jumps between
past, present and retrospective points of view. This is
done purposely. It reads nicer/livelier this way. (F/m-
teen, ped, rom)
***
INTRODUCTION
While at band camp each summer it is our duty, the
members of the school's Marching 'Sexons' from
'Wastings High' (west Michigan), to learn as much of
the new music and as many of the formations of the up -
coming marching season as possible. As well as to
practice this music and the choreography of these
formations-- 'Til we are blue in the face! (So to
speak.) This summer, the summer of 1984, we are still
holding our "Band Camp" at a mid -Michigan University.
This school is located in a small town so full of
bubbling college youths that it affectionately came to
be known as Mt. 'Happy' years before.
THAT MORNING
One morning (Wed, or more likely Thurs, I think it was)
I was separated from all my friends and fellow band
members. While away like that, I merely wandered
aimlessly through the dormitory, the "Towers" as it was
known, where our band was housed. While residing there,
the rules were pretty clear for each of us: All the
girls stayed to their assigned floor as, similarly,
each of us boys were to stay on ours. And... we were
never to go from one floor to the other!
Although, away from my friends that day, I roamed all
about the large dormitory. I was sort of "exploring"
that big, new world of college -life... From one floor
to the next and one section to another. It was on one
of the lowest floors (those halls which housed many of
the offices for that dorm as well as other resources of
that sector of campus) where I became lost, so to
speak, as I strolled along. Lost in all the silence of
those long, dark hallways... They were both cool and
dim, so quiet and peaceful.
Yet, as I turned into one hall (Towers, East), where I
had experienced another wonderful adventure seven or
eight floors above years before (See Little Brother at
the University) I heard a particular noise in the
distance. While I continued along, the racket steadily
grew and grew. Finally, at a particular door, I located
the source of that clatter: Stepping past the opened
office, I glanced in to see the cause of all the "Tap-
tap, tappity-tap", which I was hearing...
THAT YOUNG WOMAN
Looking in: I saw the most beautiful young woman ever!
...working rather attentively at a typewriter. The
morning sun beamed in from a window just behind her:
Her hair was a rich sparkle of light or sandy brown
because of. The warm pink of her cheeks glowed toward
me. As did those finely silhouetted lines of ivory from
her tiny ear, about her gentle neck, then toward her
petite shoulder... Her every feature shined brightly.
Her slender thighs-- Those small, rounded knees-- Her
delicate, beautifully shaped calves-- All the way to
her petite ankles... They glistened in the rich, or
fair stockings which she wore. She, and everything
about her, very literally, appeared to glow. Those
shapely legs of hers especially: They seemed as if
brilliant -gold in the luminescence of the rising sun.
She was seated just behind a small table. I could see
her skirt raised slightly above her knee, her smooth
calf to the tan, mid -length heels which she also wore.
(If I recall
the color correctly.) She was sooo beautiful!
Everything about that sweet woman glowed with her
loveliness. Even though, considering her present
setting, she did still appear very proper and
especially business -like.
MY ACTIONS/ REACTIONS
I stumbled past that doorway with 'all the wind blown
out of me', so to speak. I fell back against the nearby
wall as my hand rose toward the center of my chest. I
could feel my heart beating at an extraordinary rate,
as well as how my lungs fought to simply draw another
breath. Oh, myyy God! This woman is beautiful! Was
about the only excited thought whirling through my mind
which I could place words to. "Oh God. What should I
do?" I asked myself silently. After little, if any
thought though-- Well, I've gotta speak to this girl!
was my quick, or perhaps reckless, decision.
Still supported by the brick wall behind me though, I
waited... Only so briefly, of course! I paused just
long enough for my heart to barely steady itself, as
well as for my lungs to draw several deep breaths. My
mind continued to spin with such erratic thoughts and
/or erotic lusts as I turned toward that office.
Standing in the cool, dim and lonely hallway my feet
were spread wide for stability's sake. Although I hoped
to steady myself further while my thoughts spun onward.
My mind was still engulfed in such confusion. Before I
finally took that one, last and deepest breath...
I walked back. I turned and I stepped in.
THE OFFICE
Her desk, the table at which she sets, is just ahead of
me. After several small paces further, there is a
closed door upon my left before the office expands in
that direction, presenting three or four small chairs.
I turn toward them... Very calmly and most properly, I
seat myself casually upon one of these vinyl chairs.
I'm just across from her type -site now, in this small
cool office.
There I sat: Wearing a Lacosta "Izod" polo shirt. Short
shorts. A pair of "docksiders" on my feet. And likely
smelling of a cross between-- Polo men's cologne, sweat
and Marlboro cigarettes! That lovely, young woman (I
estimated to be in her early twenties, or so...) didn't
look immediately from her type writer, as I imagined
she would. Although... I can't help but to estimate she
must have lifted one eye, at least. My breaths were
quick and very shallow. My heart continued to race like
it had since I first saw her and my mind was as
confused as ever because of those (seemingly) rash
actions of mine.
My mind is spinning with so many crazed thoughts. The
questions which revolve are relatively simple, although
I have no answers for any of them... "What am I doing?
What will I do? What should I do?"... My knees tremble!
I contemplate: "What will she do? How might she react?
How have I distracted her duties? How offended will she
be because of my distraction?" I ask myself all these
questions and others, before I must remind myself
again-- "Breath!" All the while I imagine my face
probably sets rather expressionless though. Yet,
underlying each of these chaotic queries within me
still rests that 'One'... sometimes the largest of
questions which any young man may ever ask himself:
"What's my first line...?"
"Tappity -tap -tap. Tappity -tap," her fingers continue
to diligently work those keys. Although the moment of
truth finally arrives: "Ka-chin-n-n-ng!" her little
typewriter chimes. She replaces the roller with a quick
wave of her left hand, "Z-z-z-ip!" before her pretty
eyes rise as she looks up to acknowledge me. With one
of the most pleasant smiles ever, her head tips lightly
from one side to the other and her eyelashes flutter as
she greets me: "Yes. May I help you?"
Her pleasant words startle me. They ring out with the
sweetest resonance. My mind continues to spin. Although
the reverberation of her so delicate, yet very
professional, tone helps to break me from this swirling
plunge.
My face rises partly too. Lifting my chin slightly, I
softly shake my head as I respond as straightforwardly
and as simply, as I think I ever can. "Oh, no... No,
thank you," I tell the pretty young woman in my own
'most proper' or business -like tone.
After only a partial breath though, I very hastily
explain my presence and actions as frankly as possible
to avoid any complications. (As well as, I guess I'm
hoping to bring a smile or possibly even a laugh...)
"I'm just looking..." I continue with a smile as my
eyebrows rise and I shrug my shoulders while my head
tips slightly toward my right shoulder so casually as
hers just had. It probably shakes lightly, as well.
"Thank you, anyway," I tell her with my eyes wide and
what I estimate to be a very composed look upon my
face.
"Oh, okay," the beautiful woman replies rather
indifferently, still in the sweetest of tones. With
another brief flutter of those lovely lashes she
promptly turns back toward her work. "Tappity -tap -
tap...." the little machine begins to clatter.
Although, it isn't even through the next line before
she pauses with a light chuckle. Her face rises slowly
as she looks unto mine with all her beauties and this
(apparently) shy innocence of hers still beaming forth.
"Look, is there anything--" she starts as her pretty
lips begin to spread toward a smile, but I interrupt.
"No... seriously," I assure her, before I begin to
explain. "I was just walking by when I turned to look
in and saw the most beautiful pair of legs I've ever
seen!..." I tell her very frankly while I feel my
cheeks rising with the beginning of my own smile. (I
can't hold it back any longer.) "So-- I thought I'd
just come in an' check it out close up," I continue
while this silly smile of mine spreads. Her blue /gray,
or more likely light, sandy /brown eyes open wide while
her face shows such shock just before she lets out her
first, so relieving, burst of laughter. "O -o -o -oh!
Ho -ho -ho -o -o -o!" she laughs happily. Her head
shakes slightly, as she does.
I release a deep breath as so many of my tensions arise
and leave me... Oh, my God! Am I lucky, I think as my
chuckles join hers. She giggles with such a sweet,
feminine tone which, when backed up by my own deeper,
more masculine one... We proceed to create a rather
divine harmony! Our laughter makes a fine duet. Filling
all the room with this most beautiful music of
happiness. As our musical cheer gradually softens
though, I explain-- Who I am, Why I'm here, and How I
came to be in her office this morning. She seems rather
agreeable to my conversation, to its humor, even to my
appearance (I assume) ...and she doesn't seem annoyed
at all by my presence.
Her name was Tracey "Somethinski" (I'm so sorry that I
can't recall clearly any longer.) She was 22 years of
age and just beginning her sophomore year at that Mt.
'Happy' university. (Just as I was beginning my
sophomore year at 'Wastings' High.) Our following words
are unclear, as well. Although, our laughter only
continued.
When I raise my hand and motion toward the furthest
door in there and ask about "The Big Guy", she explains
very simply. Something, to the effect of 'He isn't here
today.' Then, one thing leads to another... Like I
said-- It isn't all that clear any longer. But those
things lead to others. Which these then lead us to
still others, and so on...
(You know how it goes.) It actually doesn't seem all
that long though, possibly 10 to 15 or 15 to 20 minutes
before we are connected in the wash room of this small
office!
THE WASHROOM
I don't recall exactly what I did or what she did. Or
even, what she or I might have said or done which led
us both there. But, there we were! She, or I... either
of us, had apparently made that first move though.
We begin to softly kiss and are soon holding one
another closely. Between such kisses, we also start to
gently fondle one another. We lean ourselves against
the counter top for support while we continue kissing
or 'necking' in here. Wrapped safely in my arms I lay
her back partially over the counter. We speak softly
between our kisses. Possibly, still attempting to
explain these happenings, even to ourselves, as we
gradually begin to undress one another.
Her blouse and possibly even her brazier as well (If I
recall...) are opened. My hands softly stroke all about
her down -like skin. They gently pulse upon her
shoulders, her sides and the low of her back. She is so
tender and so very delicate. She's rather dainty, too.
A petite woman. My shirt is also removed within
moments. It's merely discarded, rather carelessly, to
the floor. Or something like that. Each of us 'steps -
out' of our shoes, as well. An incredible burst of
energy enlivens all my senses when I first feel the
lush texture of her smooth thigh, though. This thigh,
her luscious calf and her delicate knee rise slowly
along my leg toward my hip.
Our pulsing bodies steadily become moistened with our
increased perspiration. There's sweat beginning to
'pool' above my brow and my body is growing damp all
over because of our heated foreplay. I stumble with the
clasp of Tracey's skirt while we kiss so passionately.
Once opened however, my hands softly stroke over and
all about her waist, her back and her tiny buttocks
while my head whirls! Her soft hands and little fingers
are just beginning to open, or reach into my shorts
though, when my thoughts do eventually return to my
scheduled responsibilities of the day...
RESPONSIBILITIES
"Oh, God!" I called out softly, very excitedly. I asked
"What time is it Tracey?!"
"Well Jeff, it's 9 something Am," she told me calmly
and quietly.
"Oh, no!" I gasped, more excitedly than just before.
"I've gotta be to practice in (what was probably) 5 -10
minutes!"
I struggled to continue kissing her as I attempted to
fondle her luscious anatomy just as sensually as
before... while I also pulled my shirt on, straightened
my shorts and grabbed my shoes from the floor of that
dim washroom. I held Tracey so warmly and very lovingly
in my arms as we exchanged (what I believed to be) our
'final' kisses. I probably apologized for having to
"run off" on her like that, too... Then it's likely I
would have wished her a "Good day". But, while
continuing to adjust my clothing, I turned and
proceeded to run the heck out of that office. (It's
difficult to believe, isn't it? ...That I could ever
have been so-o-o stu-u-u-pid!) While I ran down the
hall I struggled to slip my loafers on as I went.
Tracey, rather gleefully as I recall, in her pleasant
tone of laughter called after me "Jeffre-e-ey! Ha-ha-
ha! What roo-oom-m-m are you in-n-n?!" My head turned
partly over my shoulder as I replied. Indicating both
the floor and then the room number. (Although, these
numbers as well are now long forgotten.) My mind and
spirits spun exuberantly while I raced down the hall.
Earlier, just another dimmed corridor. But by then it
shined brightly! So many vibrant sounds, stirring
colors and crazed sensations bombarded my senses. They
flooded my consciousness as I ran from her.
She was the sweetest, most luscious woman I had ever
known. (Although, even after dating older girls since I
was younger, I should specify that she was the only
true woman which I'd ever known. Well, at least the
only one who was playing with the laws of the land by
taking me into her arms like that!)
My body trembled in weakness, tension and over -
exertion while I ran out of that building and sprinted
across the small, grassy park there. I had to run
across a couple of streets and down a sidewalk to
finally reach the particular building which housed the
music hall and our practice area. My feet, in those
loose fitting boat shoes, slapped hard to the floor,
the grass, the pavement and then to the cement which I
traveled over. Although I never heard one "clap!" of my
shoes to the ground or any of the corresponding pains
associated with racing in such footwear. My mind spun
me so many miles above those coarse surfaces with all
of the new and exhilarating senses of mine, then
awaken.
BACK AGAIN
My friends were curious: "Jeff, where the heck were
you? Why were you gone so long? What were you doing?
Why were you almost late for practice?" etc. were their
queries. Well, they're never gonna believe this, I
thought. And... they didn't!
I softly attempted to explain the 'Whats, wheres, and
whys' to several friends of mine as my heart pounded,
my lungs heaved and my mind continued to spin.
Especially in explaining those items in more detail to
my closest friends, those whom I was rooming with. Each
of them though, as well as anyone else who overheard,
they only looked to me with disbelief in their eye. And
well, I guess I couldn't really blame them. It did
sound sorta like any other "young man's fantasy" ....
That is to say: Being a high-school boy away at some
university. Meeting a beautiful young woman there.
Then, within 10-15 minutes (or so) to be in a wash room
with that sweet girl all over you! Oh well... A smile
was spread across my face and a bright light probably
shown above me as well for, I knew what really
happened!
Anyway... The band practiced a fair portion of our new
music that morning and spoke further about the new
marching formations, choreography and drills. Our
instructor finally told us when we were to report to
the nearby field for our marching practice later that
day, after our evening meals. Then, we were excused. As
we replaced our instruments some of the guys continued
to pester me. So to speak. They still had their usual
questions. Although many of them only shook their head
in disbelief of my responses. Oh, well. I can't really
blame them, was sorta my sentiment while we walked
toward the cafeteria for lunch.
TO OUR ROOM
After the meal, my roommates and I returned to the
dorm. We were coming down the long hallway, toward our
assigned room, when we saw the note paper tacked upon a
door front. As we continued onward, it gradually became
apparent that the note we saw was stuck to the door of
our room! (BS, JMc, TH, and myself.) I believe that
each of us quickened our pace, the others more than I
though. It was one of them who
hurriedly stepped up to pull the note down.
"Who's it for!? Who's it for!?" the others inquired
excitedly. "It's for... Jeff," one or more of 'em said
in, well, certain tones of disbelief. "Who's it from?"
I calmly, or perhaps even sarcastically, asked as my
chin rose. "It's signed-- Tracey!" he told us before
each of them turned to face me with "astonished looks"
in their eyes. It was probably a nice, big 'shit eatin'
grin that shown upon my face though, as I stepped up
and snatched the note from my friend's hand. "What's it
say?! What's it say?!" they asked excitedly from all
around me as we stepped into the room. "Well..." I said
as I began reading it. Then calmly, having read all of
that woman's invigorating, little note, I told them
"Tracey, wants me to call her for dinner tonight."
I showed all the strengths I could muster doing my best
just to remain calm. Although, my mind was spinning
with such exuberance and my knees felt weak once more.
I wanted to jump and shout, or to call out boldly-- "Ya
see!? Ya see!?" As we spread about our room though,
"Well?!" I think each of them asked, so eagerly, "What
are you gonna do?!"
"Well..." I began to explain happily, perhaps even a
little sarcastically once more as I shook my head
slowly back an' forth, "What do ya think I'm gonna
do!?... I'm gonna call her!" my head bobbed excitedly
as I finished my response. "Whoa -oa -oa!" is what I
believe they exclaimed. Then each of them began to
explain or predict the ramifications of such actions.
"Oh, my gosh! Do you realize this... Do you realize
that..." pretty much enclosed their subsequent
comments. "Yeah," I told 'em, "but... do you realize if
I don't!"
When I did eventually call my new-found friend, Tracey,
I think we both merely giggled as we recalled our
earlier affair. Like my friends, neither of us could
believe our brief 'interlude' from that morning, as
well. But eventually, as our conversation wore on, she
invited me to her place later for dinner. I quickly
agreed, with little (if any) hesitation, to her
delightful proposal. We proceeded to set the plans like
FBI agents, or as James Bond- 007 might: First, the
"pick -up" time. Next, the "transportation". Then, as
well, the specific sight... "This corner, on that
side," we told each other in our 'special operative'
type tones. (It was to be the upper, or north/ west
corner of a nearby intersection, if I recall
correctly.)
THE PICK UP
So, at that place, at that time... I waited, so
anxiously, for her arrival. It wasn't all that long
though, before she was there. Oh, God! rang through my
mind once more as I climbed into the lovely woman's
car. We probably kissed again before she drove on,
taking me to her apartment. She and a girlfriend rented
a small home on that side of campus. I think my own
sister, while studying at this school years before, had
once lived nearby as well.
Their place... Tracey introduced me to her roommate and
the three of us spoke happily and cordially for a time,
over our cigarettes (and perhaps a glass of wine, if I
recall correctly) before the meal was served. They
proceeded to ask more of those usual "Whats, Wheres,
and Whys" about myself, then even more questions about
my rather dauntless actions of earlier in the day. (As
I recall...) Tracey and I continued to explain the
"Whats" and "Hows" of our brief interlude to her friend
throughout much of the meal. (Perhaps, even still
attempting to explain it to our own selfs!) Like my
roommates, her friend just couldn't seem believe our
rash and lustful behavior, either. I was still nearly
crazed with excitement all the while though.
DINNER
Dinner was just the regulars: A pleasant meal of
chicken, pasta and beans. Served with our wine. As I
said-- We, Tracey and I, explained it over and over
again. Yet, her girl friend still had such a hard time
believing or imagining it all. (Seemingly; such acts
were not something that this beautiful young woman was
known for.)
Once our meal concluded, I immediately stepped up and
began to help. I eased her roommate with clearing the
table, etc. However my new -found friend, Tracey, had
disappeared somewhere... I began carrying various
plates, glasses and other items from their table into
the kitchen with her friend. It was, after all, the
most pleasant thing to do.
I insisted. Even when Tracey's roommate tried to warn
me off from such duties. She took those first items
from me beside the sink before she pushed me out the
swinging door. Yet... I returned with another load.
"No!" she told me. After relieving me of them, she
pushed me even harder through that hinged door. Not
long after though, I came back with additional cups and
utensils. After taking those however- "Jeffrey..." she
began, before I interrupted. "No!" I replied with wide
eyes, "I'm not gonna let you ladies fix me dinner and
not at least help you to clean up." I explained as I
shook my head, "That's not fair."
She proceeded to push out the door... again. To her
dismay, I came back with still more. Having taken that
load from me however, Tracey's friend specified to me
as she shoved me out even harder: "You are wanted
elsewhere." I interrupted, repeating myself, "But
that's now fair!" I said.
Tracey's roommate lifted her right arm high, pointing
up the staircase. Her other hand, I seem to recall, was
set as a fist, upon her hip: "Upstairs. Second door to
your right," she advised with an steadfast look across
her face. Preparing my rebuttal as I turned back to
face her though, she looked to my eye with a certain
dominance in hers. Her voice was even more intent:
"Upstairs. Go... Now!" I believe I grumbled then as my
brow likely dropped, displaying my anguish.
UPSTAIRS
So, up the staircase I nervously go. With each step, my
breaths become shorter and shorter, seaming less and
less. It is as if I am significantly rising in altitude
while I ascend this staircase, the air is becoming
thinner and thinner. My mind and every thought spins so
erratically. Any single or specific idea is difficult
to separate from any other in all this confusion.
Although, even having reached the top of these steps,
my nervousness continues to elevate. I swear, my
anxiousness multiplies with every pace I take down this
hallway!
The first door-- A small bathroom. Just a sink and
counter top, scattered with the usual hair brushes,
tooth pastes, etc. (I grew up with two older sisters...
So, I've seen similar ever since I was a little boy.)
Then a toilet and a shower stall. All innocent enough,
I figure. I slowly step past while my knees steadily
weaken. My nervousness continues to grow by leaps and
bounds. Next-- A closed door to my left. I assume that
of Tracey's room mate... I continue toward that
farthest door though with lingering discomfort and
hesitance. Similar to my anxieties, I swear that this
hallway's length grows with my every step. Longer and
longer it becomes. Only making it this much more
difficult for me to ever reach that destination of
mine. Especially considering all of my present
anxieties: The "What ifs?" the "Whys?" and the
"Hows?..." are steadily multiplying. The chaos and
confusion it's created is bewildering!
Finally though, I'm here... 'The second door on my
right,' just as I was instructed. Oh, God! I think. Oh,
my God! my clouded mind continues to spin. I guess,
just as it's seemed to ever since earlier today. After
one more long, deep breath though, I take this last
step... With an immense shyness and /or nervousness I
slowly turn to look in while still holding that breath.
TRACEY'S ROOM
The foot of her bed was ahead of me and the (west,
south /west) evening sun shown in the two windows
directly across the room from me. A desk, scattered
with various college texts, sat beneath one of those
windows. The head of Tracey's bed was against the wall
to the far right. Her closet door, partly open, was to
the right of her bed. On the other side of her bed,
separated by a small night stand, was another door. I
believed it lead to that bathroom I had seen as I came
down the hallway. Immediately upon my right though
stood her large vanity. A window to my left and a small
table in the far, left -hand corner as well. It held a
small television set. (If I recall...)
TRACEY
Tracey is lying rather casually toward the upper corner
of her bed, furthest from me. She appears so
comfortable there while she looks toward me rather
seductively... My mind continues to spin an' spin! "Oh,
my God! She is so -o -o beautiful! She is so -o -o
sexy!" I say to myself, over and over again. Her
slender body lies so softly there. She's upon her left
side, her knees are bent partly. Her head is supported
in her left hand, elbow down, while her right arm
extends gently before herself. With the setting sun now
behind her; I notice how her light brown hair continues
to glow, just as it did when I first discovered this
pretty angel! The supple curves of her delicate figure
do seem partly 'amplified' though. Her graceful and
curvaceous legs still shine while her other delicate,
feminine lines continue to flow smoothly.
However, with that last, deep breath I finally step my
quivering body in. I'm still only within the doorway
though, barely able to raise my eyes to meet hers
within all this nervousness which plagues me. After
struggling for another moment with these many words
spinning in my head though, I find those which seem
suitable: I offer her an explanation. (Or... Is this
even my attempts of an apology, expressed forehand?
Only to prepare her and I, for when its need may arise
later...)
"Look, um -m -m... Tracey," I begin with thinned
breaths. "Ya know, I'm only a fifteen -year -old
boy..." I remind her, as I take one or two small steps.
My boat shoes shuffle lightly across the hard wood
floor while, within my bashful and nervous state, I'm
barely able to lift my eyes. It likely appears to
Tracey that my face is turned more toward the floor
than it is to her. It may well be! I'm just attempting
to be polite... Doing my best not to 'gawk' at this
beautiful woman before me. For, every time my sights do
arise, I find that I am overcome once more by her
lovely face and her enchanting eyes, her enticing
physique... her stunning loveliness, overall. "You're
gonna have to help me," I shyly continue, within what
is probably just one or two more of these little steps.
"If there's anything I can do," my nervous explanation
furthers as my face gradually rises. "You're gonna have
to lead me, guide me, show me, and /or tell me what I
have to do to please you the most," I say very
definitely to her face, looking straight into her eye
now.
My head tips toward my right while I nod gently. Oh,
God! This woman... Tracey-- You are so -o -o beautiful!
repeats over and over while my mind spins. My thoughts
are still so unclear. "Okay..." or similar, is her only
dulled expression in this sweet an' delicate tone of
hers.
TO HER BED
With a slightly greater sense of security though, I
take these last few steps. I slowly, very shyly, set
myself just upon the corner of her supple bed. So, here
I am, with her -- kind of. I'm still only setting on
the furthest corner from her though... Somehow, even
her bed appears to have grown much larger now! As well
as, I immediately notice that it seems much softer than
any which I've placed myself before. My body feels so
weak and all my senses seem drunken. Although, every
look toward her gentle face does (apparently) offer me
additional strengths. I continue to look all about her.
I'm searching and searching, until... Until I find that
same beautiful, innocent young woman typing in a cool,
quiet office once more. It brings me great strengths
once I locate such purity. I slowly lie forward with my
own seductive grin spreading while I struggle to
control all of my fears as well as every one of my
aroused delights. While I'm slowly crawling toward her
though, Tracey eases my task. She gracefully moves
herself nearer to me. We are so close again. I notice
her perfume. As delicate as the scent of flowers in a
gentle breeze, I think.
As Tracey lies back slightly, her arms open to embrace
me. By some divine power, I even locate those strengths
of earlier this day and lean forward to kiss her tender
lips once more. Steadily those same, invigorating
passions which we experienced this morning return
although a bit more predictably now. We continue to
pull one another closer and closer. Within all my
excitement my nervous, little hands and fingers still
fumble slightly with the removal of her clothing. Even
though, her blouse and next her skirt do seem a bit
easier. Perhaps more familiar now, than in that
washroom earlier. Our kisses become so excited. Our
passions continue to grow wildly as our arms, legs and
our bodies become intertwined. We almost struggle
between ourselves! We pull and twist with one another
vigorously, attempting to draw each other closer, much
more firmly than before.
Tracey and I passionately, so robustly make love for,
oh -h -h what I believe is approximately two to two and
a half hours. Though we have no sense of time. She and
I roll around and around in each other's arms while our
hearts race, our muscles pulse and our passions
continue to roar! We experiment and experience the
pleasures and sensations of numerous positions and
means to satisfy one-another's desires and lusts. (I
recall kissing my way down Tracey's front, once or
more...) Her little physique trembles as I indulge both
herself and I with these lively flickers of my tongue
in all the proper places. She and I do, unavoidably,
grow so hot and become rather sweaty though. It isn't
long after my second orgasm that we just lie here for a
while. We are wrapped safely in one another's arms. I'm
floating so lightly. As I assume she must be, as well.
My mind spins gently while my body tingles softly. We
continue to embrace and kiss passionately, yet much
more delicately, while gradually lowering ourselves.
Steadily stepping from upon that pinnacle of our lust
and pleasures. However; we do eventually, rather
grudgingly and Oh! so slowly, begin to get ourselves
out of bed.
Although I can't! Can I? I, the nervous young boy
thinks as Tracey begins to crawl across her mattress.
No, I can't let her go! my mind whirls as I contemplate
whether I have seriously, or sufficiently, satisfied
this beautiful, "mature woman" who has just fed me
dinner. (Hmm? You figure it out.)
MY APPEAL
To stop Tracey as she's beginning to get up though I
must quickly step about the bed so I can face her
directly. I reach to softly take her hand in mine as
she attempts to rise. Why, I've even set myself to the
bedside just affront of her to impede her route! Still,
with every one of my teen -aged insecurities all
ablaze, "No, Tracey!" I tell her.
(Perhaps with a similar intensity as her roommate and I
shared earlier, outside their kitchen.) She appears
surprised but doesn't seem offended. Although she does
look up to me with a certain confusion in her eye and
upon her face. I watch as her head tips slightly toward
her shoulder. Within this confused look, her brow
lowers partially, "W -what?..." Tracey asks me
curiously with a light smile across her lips.
Even as Tracey may seem so confused now, her luscious
features continue to glow; I feel her soft smile, her
gentle dimples, next her precious hair. Her sweet voice
shines, while the delicate flutter of her eyelashes
resonate softly...
Although, thinking that she may attempt to get out of
her bed once more, I replace myself to confine her.
When Tracey does rise slightly, I watch as her elbow
extends from her. Still upon her right side, she sets
her chin gently into her risen hand. She appears rather
contemplative now, as if she's weighing the critical
factors and /or theories of an intimidating philosophy
exam. Oh, God! Even while set so serious as this, I
can't get over it. Tracey, you are so incredibly
gorgeous! She looks rather curiously into my eyes, I
think I even note once her look of confusion gradually
turns more toward one of astonishment about her lovely
face, as she does. Still showing her my disagreement, I
slowly turn my head side to side. "No," I say
definitively. Explaining next, "Tracey, I can't let you
go." I remind her, "Not until I know that I've done all
I can do to satisfy you the most."
Oh, God! That question or condition of mine repeats; I
hear those words over and over again within myself. I'm
so frightened while I continue to watch her: From her
beautiful eyes to her warm cheeks. Next, these soft,
moistened lips. Even every expression of hers which I'm
attempting to interpret now, as closely as I possibly
can. With only the understandings of a fifteen -year -
old boy, mind you!
Finally though, much to my dismay, her answer comes. I
watch as Tracey's eyes grow wide in shock or disbelief
before she lets out such a crippling laugh: "Haaa!"
bursts from her. "Ho -ho -ho," she snickers moments
longer. O -o -oh, my God -d -d... my heart plummets as
mind reels unevenly now. So, that's it! ...I'm just a
joke for this college girl. "Let's take the little high
-school boy home for a laugh!" I imagine, or I fear, is
the notion she must be considering. It surprises me how
I can feel so incredibly small, so -o -o incredibly
quickly. My mind continues to stumble as my fears,
stresses and my worries spin even faster, stirring
themselves to a boil. Such humiliation also races
alongside of or entangled with my every thought
presently. "Oh, God!" I tell myself once more, while my
mind reels so. But then-- "Jabby, you must be joking!"
She tells me excitedly. Her snickers continue after she
does. "How old... did you say... you were?!" she asks
between laughs and panting breaths with a certain
intensity.
(Although I'm completely unaware of which direction
such questions may lead us, her query does seem fairly
redundant.)
"Well... fifteen," I remind her soft and timidly. My
face and eyes lower humbly after I do, fearing her
impending response. Though Tracey only continues to
stare back, with wild eyes and a brilliant smile. Her
laughter gradually softens but that appearance of her
surprise and /or excitement lingers.
"My God!" she exclaims. "Jabby, I don't think you
understand! Do you!?" Tracey begins while looking deep
into my eyes. Her head shakes back and forth, somewhat
exaggerated as she does. My new found love continues in
this excited manner after pausing her motions: "Don't
you realize," she tells me while still looking so
deeply into my eyes. Her lashes then flutter several
times, surprised before she concludes with wide eyes
"Most of the guys on this campus would've been out of
here in ten to fifteen minutes... Or, less!" Her head
turns lightly to and fro for another moment after she
does.
My words are still very soft and uncertain though,
"So?" I nervously ask. "Yes, Jabby!" she tells me
eagerly while her head nods resolutely. Her eyes are
still wide as she continues, "Everything... was just
fine! I'm -m -m very satisfied!" A bright smiles
spreads across Tracey's face while she continues to
softly bob her head up and down.
Well, my pride can't help but to swell by leaps and
bounds from here -on! With great relief I lean toward
this sexy beauty once more so we may share another long
and passionate kiss. I hold Tracey gently about her
waist as we kiss and I can't help but to (almost
compulsively) begin softly caressing her silky smooth
side once more. "Oh, Tracey... You're sooo beautiful,"
I tell her softly as those same words and thoughts ring
throughout myself over and over. I lean to kiss her
softly on the cheek while those thoughts carry on. She
sighs deeply, softly after I do, then giggles quietly.
With such assurance, I feel much more at ease. Why, I
even allow her to get up now! I look closely while she
does and my eyes flow with each of her motions as she
turns to rise from her bed. My sights can't help but to
follow her every step as I pursue her sumptuously
petite figure into the bathroom now. My head even sways
back 'n' forth as my eyes flow, watching her lovely
derrière so intently, in a rather euphoric state of
mind.
THE BATHROOM
After following Tracey into this small restroom, I
gently back her against the counter top much as we had
in that wash room of her office earlier today. Our
exhilarating kisses are certainly more predictable now
than before, though. Why, it's not surprising at all
that these invigorating caresses seem so familiar!
However it's not long before we look toward the mirror.
Obviously, we clearly realize our appearance(s).
"Oh, my God! I'm a mess!" I tell myself. I wonder
quickly, How can she stand to even look at me!?
Possibly similar thoughts are crossing her mind, as
well. "Maybe... We should," Tracey keenly suggests
before I chime in "take a shower," we say in unison
while nodding lightly. I agree with a quick, added nod
of my own. Although I think a mischievous smile
accompanies mine. Looking to one another I must wait
only a moment before a similar smile crosses her lips.
Tracey giggles playfully and her eyelashes flutter as
she sets a towel in my hand and leads me toward the
other side of the bathroom. My sights follow the sultry
essence of her smooth back. As well as the sway of her
subtle, little derriere while she leads me to the
shower stall. I can't even help myself from watching so
closely as she bends slightly for the nozzle as we step
in. "Oh, no..." I say to myself. However, I can't stop
ogling her fine backside! I step in just behind her as
the water begins to flow. She turns to face me before
shutting the door beside, us. Oh, no! rings through my
head. One more time?
This is incredible! An invigoratingly beautiful, older
woman, who is (apparently) satisfied with my sexual
prowess! flashes through my mind. Me-- Just a boy! A
skinny, little, (probably still pimple -faced) high -
school boy! (Having recently viewed home videos of
myself from those years '84 on to '86-- I can't believe
how small I was! About 5', 5 -6" inches tall. Although
small and little, my firm legs certainly accentuated my
better developed upper body: My chest and shoulders
were broad and firm. They funneled nicely down my taut
abdomen to my slender waist.) As Tracey and I soap up
to wash one another in the hot, flowing water though
our passions can't seem to be checked, so... One more
time!
FASTENED IN THE SHOWER
Holding and caressing each other, as we are, I become
rather energized. She seems to similarly. Our faces
turn this way and that as we lustfully kiss, lick,
maybe even bite or simply tease one another with
invigorating little nibbles. Each of our hands slide
gracefully over one another's moistened anatomy and I
also notice how her gentle curves glisten under these
warm jets of water. Tracey and I struggle while we pull
and tug at one another, still attempting to hold each
other closer and closer it seems. If it's even
possible! Or, is there something else we have in mind?
Our bodies, like our mouths, glide and stroke, pulsing
together.
We slip and slide against each other, loosing our grip
often in this steamy shower. I extend an arm to reach
for Tracey's delicate and slender thigh as my tongue
probes deeper into her mouth. Her other thigh rises
along my side as we continue kissing both frantically
and excitedly. I grasp beneath her knee. Although, our
mouths and bodies do inevitably slide apart. One way,
or the other. It doesn't seem to matter which side I
reach for either. We continually slide apart.
Frantically, Tracey and I continue to pull and tug at
one another. Over and over. We are only able mold
ourselves for several frantic, heated pulsations at a
time. Not many more. We try again and again. Perhaps
leaning this way or the other way the next. We've
become nearly crazed in this steamy shower. It seems to
be impossible. We try one method, one touch, one stroke
or hold, then another. Each is exhilarating, sensuous
and stimulating but none are secure enough to last. We
struggle, over and over again.
Perhaps grasping her here?... But that doesn't last.
Possibly leaning us this way while holding her that
way?... But no, that doesn't last long either. Kissing
and fondling each other so energetically and so
sensually Tracey and I, our bodies slide together then
apart over and over again. Until...
Gradually, Tracey crawls even further up my front.
Oh, God! Here we go again! My mind smiles as it races
faster than I ever thought possible. While kissing her
so deeply, I eventually pull both of Tracey's small
knees higher. Further and further I lift them up my
sides. This tiny woman has just climbed aboard. I'm
holding her thighs upon my hips with my elbows about
her knees and my hands clasped beneath her moistened
buttocks as we kiss excitedly. Confused thoughts and
excited images continue to clutter my mind, though.
Tension and stress cause my body to tremble as my hands
and fingers slide this way or that. Our tongues play
lustfully as her body rises along mine. We are
frantically licking one another's neck or biting at
each others ear as her waist slowly pulses. With
finally, these last two, three or four gliding
strokes... Insertion is re -obtained!
Tracey's little body rises and falls solidly upon my
cock now. Stronger and stronger her physique throbs
against mine, much as it had while making love in her
bed, shortly before. We are gliding so smoothly
together. Somehow, like the well lubricated pieces of a
machine. Just as if we are made to 'fit' one another.
She strokes her little figure vigorously along my
midriff. My body trembles while she does from both, all
my excitement as well as my every frailty. Breathing in
the hot and steamy air of this small restroom doesn't
help either of us though. Our breaths race! Each of
them too small to ever satisfy the needs of our lungs
and our bodies. Just as our every pulse, none seem long
or firm enough to ever appease our ferocious lusts.
While I maneuver Tracey's little bottom our moist
physiques continue to slip and slide as she bounces
upon my front. Our hands likewise, stroke and stroke
without end over one another's anatomy. Before, with my
reach beneath her and next her guidance, I finally grab
her derriere while her slender thighs continue to hold
me. With Tracey's slender thighs clenched firmly above
my hips, then my grip beneath her and next her
guidance, I begin to caress both her tender anus and
her sweet little vagina. I tickle and fondle as much of
her as sensitively as I'm able. Tracey groans lustfully
as she succumbs to more and more of her lusts like this
before our mouths fasten in the deepest kiss.
She or I call out between each kiss as our physiques
glide together. It seems approximately twenty minutes,
or so, before the synchronized strokes of our tongues
and the energetic caress of our fingers has risen our
lustful duet toward a vigorous height of passion. My
moistened fingers flow smoothly, like this water, over
her flesh as I attempt to grasp Tracey's little figure
more solidly. Holding one another so firmly, our hearts
and breaths race as our physiques shake and quiver.
With each successive pulse of this game of ours in the
shower, our bodies throb more consistently.
Steadily, harder and harder, more and more robustly, we
strike our hips and abdomens together so firmly. Our
hands and fingers grasp tightly, while our tongues
stroke excitedly and our hearts pound strenuously as
Tracey and I drive ourselves onward with sightless
fervor. It is in this fatiguing and maddening state
though, wildly and lustfully thrusting ourselves
together in abandon, with not a single or at least not
a clear thought in our minds, that my beautiful, new-
found lover and I pinnacle together.
My hands clench tightly about Tracey's hips and
buttocks as her arms grasp about my shoulders
similarly. Then our mouths part as our jaws clench and
we groan in mutual exhaustion as our bodies beat out
these last few pulses of our finale'. Appeasing our
roaring lusts once more.
While my mind spins uncontrollably like this, any
particular thought is indiscernible from the next and
my physique only works via involuntary response(s). As
she and I orgasm simultaneously, my every muscle clamps
like a vise. Whereby my little feet slide
uncontrollably, all about. They squeak on the shower
floor as I struggle to retain our balance. Shaking
wildly and trembling weakly, Tracey and I do gradually
regain our wits though. As our bodies finally relax I
release this lovely young woman and set her before me,
we pant heavily in mutual exhaustion. Our hands
continue to lightly massage and caress each other.
By the time we finally exit the shower though, this
entire bathroom is very, very hot, thick with steam and
each of us is still breathing doggedly. The whole room
it smells like... well, like... well... it sort of
smells like passionate sex! (For lack of better
expression.) Although, with all of our sensual lusts
apparently appeased, as well as ourselves so worn,
Tracey and I do resolve to go about our "business". We
gradually dry one another before slowly dressing
ourselves.
We casually brush our hair, etc. Slowly we conclude
preparing ourselves. Although it's not too long before
I look to that damned clock again.
I'm such a fool! I'll say it again-- Here's a
beautiful, very passionate woman: So lustful and
apparently so eager to share these lusts with me. And I
am about to run from her once more! Just to go out to
some damned, bug -infested marching field and stomp
around with a bunch of kids... Well, I guess a guy's
gotta do what a guy's gotta do. Of course, I can only
say this now with a really stupid lookin' grin on my
face today.
Realizing the time, though: "Oh! My, God!" I exclaim.
"Tracey! I'm late for evening practice!" squeals right
out of me. Tracey and I race to finish preparing
ourselves. We get the rest of our clothing 'set' before
scrambling down the staircase. I quickly say goodbye to
her kindly room mate and thank her once more for the
wonderful meal. Tracey now drives me quickly (although,
safely) back to campus. With a healthy hug, a warm kiss
goodbye, a smile and finally a gentle wave Tracey and I
go our separate ways...
My heart goes out to you Tracey: Where ever you may be,
what ever you may be doing or even whatever you may
have done... I realize that it may not seem like all
that much now, but Tracey, you will forever hold a
certain string that's been wrapped securely about my
heart and every one of these memories, for so long now.
My love goes out to your, my Dear.
Well, anyway, that's sad enough. But...
BACK TO PRACTICE
Tracey lets me out right in front of the music building
so I can run directly into our practice hall. I grab my
instrument and my music. Now, I sprint like an idiot
out to that 'insect -filled' field. All of my 'marching
mates' are already in formation, practicing a drill. I
hurriedly fall into my place of this formation, between
the laughter and snickers of those same band members.
My "marching trombone" raises to its attention position
as I begin marching right along with them. All the
while, sweat is already beginning to cover my body and
I'm panting hard, so out of breath.
It's not long though, before our director grabs his
amplified bull -horn. There's a brief pause before
"Halt!" he casts through that damned horn. "*Bleep*(my
last name)!
Get up here!" he shouts. His words, they seem to linger
subtlety between the other band members although they
resonate ominously in my head. So, I must miserably
walk back through those ranks of my snickering band
members to his podium. I'm forced to listen to their
laughter and other cracks as I pass.
"Oh, Jeff... You're gonna get it this time!" or "Holly
shit, where the heck were you?" Etc. Even, "Was she
worth it?" my closest friends, those who knew the
truth, inquire as I go by.
UNDERSTANDINGS
"Was she worth it?" they asked... Oh, God! Yes, she
was!
If I could travel back in time to do it once more, even
knowing the consequences involved, I would promptly go
right back to do it all over again! Although, 'knowing
what I now know', it's likely that I would change a few
things... I would have had her pick me up sooner and I
would have left much later. Or even, I might never have
run
from her at all. Beginning that very morning! I
wouldn't have come back to our dorm until the wee hours
of the night. ...To be "buzzed -in". (I think it's
referred to as.) Or, on second thought, I might not
have even come back! Well...'til the next day, or so.
Possibly though-- Not ever!
I can imagine it now... All those little posters with
my photograph upon them, plastered near the entrance to
every grocery store in the Mount Happy area. They'd
read-- "Missing: Young man of 15 years. Dark hair, dark
eyes... nice tan. Last seen wearing Lacosta polo shirt
and a quaint smile or silly grin. Although, most likely
now a rather dazed look of pleasure upon his face and
great satisfaction within those large brown eyes."
FINALITIES
Well, I do eventually reach our director's podium. He's
looking upon me with a sincere, or even a fierce
essence about himself. Although, only long enough to
administer my first penalty: Mr. LJ tells me in a very
stern tone that he 'doesn't want to see my instrument
fall from its play position throughout the rest of the
evening's drills,'
then sends me back.
So... I return. Walking back through the ranks, I see
various sarcastic expressions all about me and I can
still hear a few more cracks as I go. With my heavy
instrument held high I eventually fall back into my
post. We continue our marching rehearsal, practicing
many of those new formations and the choreographed
synchronization of each.
I am so tired and worn out. My every muscle feels limp
and so -o -o weak. My arms tremble feebly while my legs
shake, as if decrepit. From various other matters, of
course, although my back also hurts so badly. It aches
from my shoulders, through my scoliosis defected spine,
right into my hips. Even my head continues to spin.
Although, I never allow that horn to come down. Not
once! I think it may have gradually lowered just a bit,
from time to time, from that proper play angle now and
then. I know, I know. But... I am sorry. Only for being
late for practice, that is!
EARLIER PROPOSITIONS
Just that spring, before the end of the school year,
our band director offered me a proposal. While in his
office at the high school one morning, he explained
"Jabber, we need more base on the field." He next asked
if I would consider trading instruments...
'Would I think about playing a marching trombone for
the coming season?'
"But, I can't play the trombone," I replied.
He clarified himself 'The marching trombone (as he
called it) wasn't really a trombone...' It was
essentially large a trumpet. A three keyed, B -flat
instrument, just like my trumpet. He did admit that it
was just a bit bigger, though. Well, it was!
Approximately three times as large. ...Three times as
heavy, too!
Yet, I can't really deny him, can I? I thought that day
in his office. He was our director, after all is said
and done. In essence, his words were "the law". Weren't
they? I was to do what he said, when he said to do it.
Or, I easily estimated, my life would become a living
hell.
EXECUTING THE SENTENCE
So, I lift my bulky instrument up and hold this horn at
a play position while we march the rest of the evening.
(Play position-- approximately 15 degrees above level,
as is considered the proper angle upon the marching
field.) We march and march. Probably for another hour
and a half to two hours... possibly longer!
Oh, God! This is awful. My arms, chest, and shoulders
ache so badly. The open field is still hot from the
burning sun of the day. In fact, now it is simply
expelling all of that heat which it collected
throughout the day.
My arms and shoulders ache so bad, within o -o -oh,
probably 45 minutes, or so. My shoulders and chest
burn! From both, the heat created by my clenched
muscles and the heat rising from this field... Along
with the temperatures created by our exercise.
This sweat grows upon me quickly. It drips through my
hair and itches so badly. As well as does all the sweat
which is soaking my clothes. This instrument in my
hands is also too heavy to be held in just one, to
allow a player to scratch himself with the other, so...
I must only endure these wrenching pains and
irritations. Covered in sweat, my polo shirt hangs
damply from my shoulders. Fortunate enough for that
amphibious creature which stands upon my chest (the
Izod alligator), although... if I could pause to wring
this shirt out, I'd likely fill a large drinking glass!
My body sways with a similar unsteadiness too, as I
imagine a drunken man would. I stumble around slightly,
leaning back and forth, or else to and fro... My mind
swirls. Chaotic queries and notions continue to stir my
thoughts. ...Like many have since morning, although
they are now ringing with a very different tone from
any I've heard yet, this day. That sweat which made my
scalp itch before is gradually running down my face,
it's acidity scorches my eyes. It seems to pool up,
right there at the corners, too. Both inside and out.
They burn with irritation! Obviously, my body hurts all
over although I endure. It's probably not long after
the summer sun has fallen over the horizon that our
practice is finally brought to its end.
"Oh! Thank God!" I say to myself. I want to drop, right
here and right now.
PHYSICAL DISTRESSES
I ached so. My muscles burned and seared. I continued
to itch all over from the sweat which pooled upon me
earlier as well as the fact that without the sunlight,
I was beginning to chill in my damp clothing. My knees
trembled while my legs felt so weak. Each of the
muscles involved in holding my horn, ached so badly. My
back hurt all over.
Both weak from exertion as well the wretched pains of
this damned scoliosis which I suffer. As my friends and
I all gratefully or, perhaps even gleefully for some of
us ...as we fell from our ranks, we solemnly began that
walk back toward the music hall to replace our
instruments for the night.
My horn was finally lowered and my shoulders rolled
forward allowing my arms to hang limply while I curled
my spine to stretch. I listened to those annoying
"Cracks!
Pops!" and "Snaps!" as I folded my spine. This allowed
some of those strains and tensions of mine to rise.
However a number of friends were already headed my way.
Their questions came fast and excitedly. They each
wanted to know the facts... "What's this? What's that?
Where were you?" were most of those which I heard.
Although a couple others were still "Why were you gone
so -o -o long!?" Some of those friends even began to
huddle about me, until... his last call came: With that
bull -horn in hand, our band director blasted this
order with a fierce shout "*Bleep*!... You run -n -n!
Don't you walk!" So... I ran.
There was only one road which separated the field from
the sidewalk which lead to the music hall and storage
area. Just one. Normally, my friends and I waited for
the lights to change and that little WALK NOW sign to
begin blinking before we crossed.
Although, he did say "run". Didn't he? So... I did. I
sprinted with abandon right across all three, or was it
even four?, lanes of that intersection! Bringing
several of them to quick, screeching halts. With arm
extended, I even left my hand print upon one or maybe
two hoods. Bouncing, so to speak, lightly off of 'em
while a couple other lanes came to their halt. But... I
did 'Run'. Didn't I?
After filing into that cool storage /practice area, I
was still aching and itching. However I was beginning
to chill by then, covered in cold, sweaty clothing
while I put that bulky horn away. Some friends and band
mates continued to ask those annoying, little questions
while others simply stared blankly or heckled me from
the background. Although, the moment or truth finally
arrived.
TIME FOR HONESTY
"Jabby, may I speak with you?!" our director calls
toward me from across this room. (Aside: I wonder now
what his reaction would have been then if I had simply
replied "No, you may not." Ha! Ha! Ha!) Oh, shit! my
mind races. Everything is so confused. This is it. I'm
gonna get it now! is essentially the only consideration
which I can place words to.
While I walk through the various rows of seats and the
students there I continue to see those "Oh, shit!" type
expressions upon many of their faces. A couple of
laughs still. I think I even overhear a few of those
occasional, whispered remarks as I go. Essentially most
of these can been tallied into a single phrase: "You're
in it deep!..." clearly sums them up.
Our director is standing beside the door of the office
which he uses. As I step up toward him, my knees
tremble in fear. Especially considering my exhaustion!
Following the nod of his head and the direction of his
eyes, I step into his small office. He follows me in,
closing the door somewhat heavily behind himself. Once
I turn to face him, either following a verbal command
or possibly just the motion of his eyes, I proceed to
seat myself.
I fall weakly into this chair before I look up to his
face and see such discontent in his eye as he sets
himself behind the large desk. In this briefest
silence, while he is seated, my thoughts are racing to
prepare any possible explanation, or explanations,
which I can. Yet, any words of justification which I
might attempt only swirl obscurely in my unstable mind.
When he looks toward my face and my eyes meet his, I
quickly sit myself toward his desk, take a quick breath
and blurt out what I expect to be his major concern.
"Look sir, I wasn't smokin' dope, doin' drugs, or
drinking!" is my first rebuttal.
Although, in my own questionable tone, I continue more
honestly, (I think I've already begun to take a lighter
tone as my eyebrows arise and my head tips slightly
toward my shoulder. His eyes still follow mine closely,
curiously...) I continue, "Well, (a short breath) I did
have a glass of wine with our meal," I confess as my
brow rises further, my head bobs lightly and my face
probably still shows all my hope for any of his
understanding.
"Wine?..." he replies slowly or gently as his own brow
rises, inquisitively now.
"Yes... sir. (I chuckle lightly.) They served me white
wine with chicken!" I tell him with a 'tight' smile
across my lips. Mr. LJ pauses for several moments as he
continues to inspect my face and /or simply my reply.
He watches me so closely.
"But Jabby, where have you been -n -n? No one has seen
you for hours," is his first, full question. (If I
recall...)
"Well, sir," I begin, "I met a young woman earlier
today." My explanation broadens, he continues to
eyeball me closely while it does. "And... she invited
me to dinner this evening," I tell him with a mild
grin, or what (I imagine) still must appear to be a
rather hopeful look upon my face. (I still longed so to
find any leniency or carelessness in him which I
could.)
He continues to look toward me with that certain
appearance of doubt showing across his face and within
his eyes though.
"To dinner, Jeffrey?" he asks as his eyebrows rise with
that curious look lingering about himself.
"Well... Yes sir," I reply.
"But Jeffrey, you've been gone so long?..." he replies,
restating his earlier concern. His eyebrows rise once
more, as he does.
I repeat myself similarly "Well, yes sir." His doubt
continues to show strongly in his eyes while I do.
"But, Jeffrey?..."
"Well sir, after dinner I tried to help clean up..." I
tell him as I watch Mr. LJ's brow rise again. "When I
tried to help though," I say with a little giggle, "her
girlfriend only forced me out of the kitchen and
directed me upstairs." My band director looks upon me
so curiously, with no, or very little understanding
which I can find about him yet. I explain this further:
"When I told her girlfriend that 'I can't let you girls
fix me dinner and not, at least, help you to clean up."
He continues to look rather questionable (perhaps
confused) of this story which I am explaining.
"But Jeffrey, you have been gone so long." he says with
a refreshed tension within his voice. "Well sir, I went
upstairs and... well..." I uneasily designate, before I
swallow hard. "Well sir... ahhh... we did end up making
love..."
"Making love?" he asks with every one of those signs of
hesitance still about himself.
"Yeah, sir! I was so nervous!" I say rather excitedly
while shaking my head to and fro. Although I think I
even notice a certain compassion showing upon his face
now, while I do. "I had to explain to her that-- 'I'm
just a fifteen year old boy. You're gonna have to lead
me, guide me, show me, and /or tell me what I have to
do to please you'!" I eagerly narrate, likely still
showing my grin. He smiles slightly as I do.
"But Jeffrey, for hours?" that doubtful tone and
appearance of his reappears.
"Well sir, (I swallow hard once again with a light grin
still on my face) after a couple hours in bed we were
kinda sweaty..." I tell him as my eyebrows rise. I
guess I'm still hoping to locate more of that
compassion which I think he had shown, just moments
ago. "We had to shower," I explain, likely with this
particular, perhaps even cocky, smile of mine still
showing.
Mr. LJ continues to look so curiously about me. "The
shower?..." his words sort of fade away while his head
dips toward one side and a growing distance appears
upon his face.
"Yeah!" I tell him, well... excitedly. Mr. LJ still
looks so curious of this explanation. I further myself
with a renewed smile and my giggle: "I was holding her
up on me..." I notice he sorta grins while I do.
Although, I recognize that same questionable look in
just a moment. Another tight smile crosses my lips
before explaining "I came so hard!" My giggle probably
previews my continuance, "Yeah! My little feet were
slippin' all around!" This giggle grows... "I thought
we were both gonna go down!" I tell him with a light
laugh.
My band instructor laughs a little himself as he sets
himself back, slightly more relaxed and reclines
partially in his chair behind the desk. His brow drops
while he looks about me so perplexedly. As he's taking
several long and deep breaths, I watch his face
closely. I'm so scared of his reaction. I'm still
attempting to imagine what in the world my overall
punishment could, or will, be. Although, Mr. LJ soon
sets himself slightly taller in his chair before he
'sets the bricks', so to speak.
With another of those deep, steady breaths of his...
(Although it still seems that I haven't breathed in so
-o -o long!) he leans forward and sets his elbows upon
the desk between us. I'm waiting so anxiously. My body
is so tight. I swear the tension which runs within me
could saw through iron! Very gradually though, I
finally force myself to draw one long, slow and deep
breath. My mind continues to swirl with such
anticipation as I peer across this desk top. "Well,
Jabby," he begins. "I think that..." he pauses briefly,
"We-- can-- assume-- that you've already served your
punishment for this matter," he tells me rather
'aristocratically'... (for lack of better expression.)
Ohhh, God! My mind revolves, although I immediately
notice as it begins to slow. Those tensions all about
me similarly, many are released nearly in an instant.
"Pop! Pop! Pop! Snap!" they go. "Aghhh," he probably
hears me sigh while I rest slightly in my chair. I take
several deep and easier breaths too, as I feel my head
gradually steadying.
Although in just a moment, as I begin to stand from
this chair, "But, Jeffrey..." he looks toward me so
seriously again. Oh, shit! I briefly contemplate as I
seat myself weakly. "Why-- Why in the world did you
race across that street?" he asks or demands with a
certain intensity. Similar to that firmness which he
had displayed earlier.
This might be a somewhat sarcastic expression showing
about my face as I explain, "Pardon me sir but and I do
quote you sir, '*Bleep*! You run, don't you walk!' were
you words." I pause for a moment. I believe I also
notice some realization showing about him before I
continue this justification. Slowly, shaking my head
from side to side, I further myself, "You said nothin'
about waiting for traffic..." My words sort of fa-a-ade
away.
Mr. LJ leans toward me, from across the desk, as his
lips part slightly while (I imagine) preparing his
response. Although, in an instant, he stops himself. I
watch as he relaxes his stance, so to speak. I think I
can even see some of those tensions rise from him as he
contemplates my statement further.... And considering
those facts, as I assume he must be, I did, after all,
have approximately eighty(?) or more of my friends as
witness to that particular fact.
(I still imagine that I could see those thoughts.) In
that instant he was thinking of how in the world he
could ever explain to the police that showed at the
scene-- "Honestly officer, the boy just ran into the
road..." While a number of students might,
incongruently, point out "But officers, our director
did tell him to "Run!" not to "walk." They might shake
their heads back and forth as I just had, "He didn't
say anything about waiting for the traffic lights,
Officer." they'd continue.
Fortunate enough for me though, not another word was
ever spoken (to myself anyway) of this predicament I
caused. He (our band director) never seemed to hold a
grudge about that incident either. So, neither could
I... But boy, I do imagine that it must have been very
difficult for him not to resent me.
APOLOGIES
I do sincerely apologize to one, Mr. JLJ, for that
entire incident... Because he is such a fine band
instructor /director, who allowed me every opportunity
to advance myself. Even after I did offend, upset or
frighten him like that. So, I must reassert my grief
and sorrow to him because of this particular episode--
Mr. JLJ, I hope that my foolish and rash actions didn't
or don't cause you any distress or pains then or even
now.
MAY I ALSO DEDICATE THIS WRITING TO ONE--
TRACEY 'SOMETHINSKI':
WHOM I LAST SAW AS A SOPHOMORE OF A MID -MICHIGAN
UNIVERSITY, 1984. IN A PLACE CALLED-- MOUNT "HAPPY"...
IF I COULD, I VERY GLADLY WOULD, DO
IT ALL OVER AGAIN, MY DEAR!
Sincerely,
Jabber
Ps. To heck with 'em! The rest of the boys 'n' girls in
the band, that is. Tracey, to go back and just to see
you again... I would never let it end. Oh Tracey, if
you're out there somewhere and you ever think of me:
Please, rest assured that I still think of you.
Possibly, more than you could ever imagine.
Pps. I was also happily reassured, shortly after
writing this, by a very close friend of mine (actually
a roommate that hot week, the summer of '84)... That,
although he admits some of the facts (known to him) of
this experience are not so clear now (due in part to
the SIBF* suffered later in high school.) He did,
however, affirm one particular recollection of mine. He
does validate the accuracy of my sentiment-- "If I
could, I would, do it all again." Which I had
apparently told the guys later that very evening. My
largest thanks to you BS. Thanks for being there for me
that week and all these many days that have come since.
*SIBF: Self Induced Brain-Fry.
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 40